Tuesday 13th January 2009
"I'm sure we've been here before", I said to Amy as we headed off Highway 101 down Moonstone Beach Road. The sound of the traffic eventually gave way to the sound of the surf and in front of us we saw a wonderful collection of surf-piercing rocks and near-forgotten rock pools. Amy dropped her head to one side which made for a quizzical look : she tends to do this whenever I do something or say something she doesn't understand. "Moonstone Beach, Moonstone Beach" I repeat as I flip back through our collected travel diaries. "Ah, here we are, it's just south of San Simeon and we visited it months and months ago". Amy dropped her head a few more degrees from the horizontal plane, which tends to mean "fool" : and in this particular case "it's another Moonstone Beach you old fool".
We walked on the beach and caught site of Camel Rock in the distance. Named because of its two prominent humps, the rock is a local landmark and a popular gathering point for surfers. The beach is a fine sandy beach and, unlike its Southern California namesake, is relatively unlittered with pebbles or driftwood. After a while we left the beach and wandered up to the Moonstone Grill where we surveyed the menu with much thought. "California Red Abalone medallions lighted coated in almonds and cracker crumbs and served over angel hair pasta in a sauce of chablis, butter capers and fresh herbs" is one of the house specialities but I stuck to good old steak and fries. Amy decided to be adventurous so I ordered her the sauteed duck breast. "Very tasty", I said as I washed down the last of my rib-eye steak with a glass of local wine. Amy gulped down the last of her duck and dropped her head a few degrees from the horizontal plane. Undoubtedly this meant "very tasty"